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Thunderbird

We women – not just singing birds, or peacocks, or doves – but birds of power and beauty and strength – how would we fly? What would be our course, our migration routes, our prey, our nesting grounds? Where are yours?

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I WOULD…
I would nest in a sunny mountain crag
where only the wild goats leap
no prowling jungle beast to fear
or disturb a calm night’s sleep
waking to the glory of morning sun
I would fly on rapture wings
flashing swift as the northern lights
ride high where the free wind sings
I would fight to capture the strongest prey
no carrion or broken ones to seek
but dive to attack on the prowling brutes
that cowardly strangle the feeble and weak
I would swoop in valleys and rise to the peaks
splash in the lakes and traverse the plains
rest with my mate in the forests quiet
and challenge a race in the summer rains
I would then go back to the warming rocks
and the greening mountain slopes
far above the noisy crowded dust
These my dreams, my heart, my cherished hopes